Move Like You Want
by EbonyBeach
Summary: It was supposed to be a date of sorts that actually involved daylight and wasn't centered around food or alcohol...
1. I

**Title**: Move Like You Want

**Rating**: PG-13 (for now).

**Summary**: _Owen takes Cristina on a fourth date... to The Outdoors._

**A/N**: Set after 5x14 - 5x15, with some creative license employed. This currently stands at over 10,000 words and I'm still writing, so there will probably be about 5 or 6 chapters in total. Please let me know what you think, it means a lot. : )

II

Cristina's alarm went off at seven AM and she swore and hit snooze. Twice.

It was Saturday, her first day off in the past week and seven o'clock was far too early to get up, even for a mystery day out with the mysterious Owen Hunt. It was supposed to be a date of sorts that actually involved daylight and wasn't centered around food or alcohol - indeed, this one was to feature The Outdoors, a faintly ominous concept which Cristina still couldn't believe she had agreed to.

Two weeks ago, Owen had said he wanted to take her some place special and she had surprised herself by saying yes straight away. When she thought more about the idea later on she realized she had been waiting for another chance to spend time with him, and whilst she wasn't the type to expect big romantic gestures and was quite content getting to know someone over a few beers in her own apartment, she found a part of her was curious about the extent of the romantic inside Owen. She had a feeling it was fairly sizeable.

Up until now they'd only been on three dates and kissed a few times around the hospital (including the incredibly hot scene on the vent), and she wasn't sure exactly where they stood. Following the disastrous shower incident and his heartfelt plea for a second chance they had gone out to dinner only to be interrupted by their pagers during dessert, and a week later he had invited her to Joe's which was shaping up to be a lovely evening until the rest of the hospital seemed to turn up and sit at their table without an invite, pretty much ending the date there and then.

And then on Tuesday this week, when she had accidentally woken him in the on call room and he had complimented the back of her neck and made her feel bizarrely, embarrassingly ecstatic, she'd had high hopes for the night shift with him - that was, until his ex-fiancée showed up and he had ended up asleep on her chest, which in itself hadn't been a bad outcome for the day, but even the great Ellis Grey's diary wasn't a substitute for the night of loving she'd been craving. Still, Meredith's mother had had a point, even if she didn't realize it herself: chaste _was_ sexy, and thinking about Owen now Cristina found herself wanting him all the more for being unable to have him for so long.

Despite her excitement at spending the day with him though, she still felt acutely nervous. She was worried they'd run out of things to say: they would talk about work, obviously, but then what? She had nothing to share about herself that she considered interesting seeing as her life revolved solely around the hospital, and she knew she couldn't ask him about the war or Beth because he would clam up or have another panic attack and that would definitely ruin the mood.

The truth was, no man had ever taken her out for the day before. Her relationship with Burke, and with Colin Marlow for that matter, had been based around medicine and their apartments, with the occasional meal out included. And she had been content with that, quite able to spend a whole day in their company and not feel unnecessarily anxious because when conversation ran dry they felt comfortable enough in familiar surroundings to just be together in silence.

But when someone made an effort to take you out for the day it was kind of expected that you make an effort to talk to them in return. All day long. With only bathroom breaks for peace and quiet. Maybe she could feign diabetes or a rare neurological syndrome that meant she had to pee every half hour. But then, she couldn't keep up that pretence forever, and what if he stuck around long enough to find out she'd lied?

Maybe she should just drink lots of water... She rolled out of bed, ignoring the time, and filled a glass in the kitchen, contemplating the day ahead. Other worries niggled in the back of her mind: what if she got bored of The Outdoors or he got bored of her, or both? Would the somewhat awkward sexual tension that had developed between them recently - which was undeniably hot but very difficult to read - be magnified exponentially as they forced it to stretch out over the whole day? Would they finally break and pounce on each other, making wild passionate love in the back of his truck on the roadside?

She finished her water and poured a second glass; then, catching sight of the timer on the oven she swore again and dashed into the bathroom. Nervous or not, the thought of finally being naked with him and giving her body what it had been craving for far too long made the little flame of desire he had been gradually stoking deep inside her rise up suddenly into her chest and down between her thighs. She lowered the shower temperature before climbing in, thinking of the time he had stood there and she had stripped him bare, his gorgeous toned body the last thing on her mind at the time but a lovely little memory stored away for her to visit at moments like these.

God, she hoped he was going to make The Outdoors worth it for her. She wasn't sure she could be around him much longer without jumping his bones. Perhaps it was time to step up the flirting another notch, to really let him get to know Cristina Yang.

Perhaps today would be fun after all.

II

Owen knocked on her door at eight o'clock exactly and she greeted him with a grumpy expression and an air of frantic disorder, both of which he found adorable - nothing was going to spoil his good mood today. "Morning," he said cheerfully, earning himself a half-hearted smile.

"Morning, Mr Punctual." She rushed around the apartment, cramming things into a small holdall bag whilst drinking coffee and eating a banana. She then moved into the bedroom, her voice fading as he heard drawers being opened and slammed shut. "Damn you for being on time _again_. I'm sorry, I got up late. Stupid Saturday early mornings."

When she returned to the kitchen and stopped for a second to take a breath, she looked at Owen standing there with an amused smile on his face and suddenly wondered why she was so nervous about today after all. He looked so handsome in a tight-fitting cream tee and khaki shorts, his dusky blonde hair a bit ruffled and his beard trimmed fairly short. _It's only a daytrip_, she reminded herself, her eyes locked with his across the counter. _We're just two grown ups going somewhere for the day. It's gonna be fun, and there will probably kissing. Maybe we'll even get naked in the woods somewhere..._

She had been thinking about that scenario, and variations of it, a lot lately. When he told her the day after she agreed to the date that she needed to wear hiking boots and take a change of clothes in case they got wet (how, she didn't want to imagine), she almost backed out - almost admitted she wasn't the nature type and that it was pretty much her idea of hell. But he had been so enthusiastic that the words died in her mouth, and so she had spent the past two weeks mentally preparing herself for their big adventure and conjuring up various outdoorsy fantasies. She was beginning to realize that she would agree to almost anything he suggested just to spend time with him; to get to know him better because he was intriguing and funny, and it was gradually dawning on her that she was falling for him in a big, scary, couldn't-stop-it-if-she-tried kind of way.

Pushing that thought aside with some difficulty, she took a few steps towards him. "So, are you going to tell me where we're going now?"

Owen placed his hands on her waist and drew her closer. "Not yet." He had such an irresistible smile on his face that she couldn't help returning it. "Are you going to let me kiss you now?" She didn't answer because he kissed her anyway; she tasted of coffee and for a second he thought about cancelling the trip altogether and just walking her backwards into her bedroom.

"Whoa there," Cristina murmured against his lips, fingers curling around his upper arms to steady herself. _So much for awkward sexual tension. _"I didn't get up this early and buy hiking boots for no reason."

"Sorry," he grinned, moving back to meet her gaze. "Couldn't resist. You look so lovely."

"Aren't we the charmer?" she teased. "Keep that up and it might be more than a few deer baring themselves in the woods."

Owen thought he'd misheard her, but her devilish smirk and sparkle in her eye confirmed he wasn't mistaken. "Is that a promise?" he asked, and when had his voice gotten so husky? He cleared his throat but she had already noticed the slip in his composure.

"Maybe," she shrugged with the same irresistible expression, stepping away from him and sipping her coffee, her gaze not leaving his. "I suppose to find out we should actually leave Seattle and get to wherever these theoretical woods are..."

With that she sauntered off to gather her things and Owen just about managed to calm himself by the time she returned. "Right, I think I have everything you told me to bring. Shall we?"

"After you."

Whatever his hopes for today, Owen had a feeling Cristina was going to surpass them all. This week they had really seemed to step up their flirting, even amidst the Beth debacle, and he was more attracted to her now than ever before, especially when she made it so obvious that she felt the same way.

II

About fifteen minutes into the journey, as they left the outskirts of the city, Owen glanced at her in the passenger seat. "Did you bring your iPod?"

"Oh yeah. Hang on." She dug around in her purse, pulling out all sorts of weird and wonderful items including a piece of cheese wrapped in cellophane and a mini textbook of advanced cardiothoracic surgery.

"You're hardly going to need that today," Owen chuckled.

"Hey, it's my bible. You wouldn't mock Christians for carrying their Bible around with them. That would be Christophobic."

"Sounds like your interns."

At that she laughed. "Shut up. What do you wanna listen to?"

"Surprise me."

She put on the first good song she came to, one with fairly heavy bass line that never failed to get her going in the morning. "What the hell is this?" Owen asked, clearly amused at her selection.

"Drum and bass remix. Great to dance to."

"But we're not dancing now."

"I know. But in my head I am."

He smiled. "So you're a big dancer?"

"Well, mostly just in my apartment with Callie or Meredith. Or alone. I don't really care."

Owen found she was now dancing in his head too and the image had a profound effect on his heart rate – it probably didn't help that he had conjured her up dressed only in her underwear. His vision kept him occupied despite the thumping music until they were speeding south along the interstate towards Tacoma.

"Right, my turn," he said at last. "Can you get my iPod out of the front locker?"

"You have an iPod? I had you down as the type of wilderness guy who could occupy himself for hours with a Swiss army knife and a few sticks."

"Well, of course I can." He winked at her. "But we 'wilderness guys' also like music." He asked her to put on his most popular playlist and soon the sounds of Dire Straits and Fleetwood Mac filled the truck. "What do you think?"

Cristina shrugged. "It's okay, I guess. Some of it's a bit slow. Mer and I couldn't dance to it."

"Not all music's for dancing, you know. I listened to these albums a lot in Iraq. They helped me relax, helped me sleep. Reminded me of home too, in a good way."

She looked across at him, surprised at this sudden confession. She couldn't tell if the curve of his mouth was a grimace or a wistful smile, but decided now was as good a time as any to try and find out more about his life in the military seeing as he had voluntarily brought up the subject. Cristina found it very strange, feeling like she had known him for years and yet knowing absolutely nothing about such a huge part of his life. "What else did you do out there to relax?"

"Er..." He sighed and was silent for such a long time she thought she had crossed a line and really upset him, but when he answered at last his voice was surprisingly level. "Played football and card games – mostly poker. We talked a lot. Drank beer and scotch when we could get it."

"So it wasn't all bad?"

"No, not at all. Until last year... Well, you know. But there were loads of good times before that. I had fun, lots of friends, and I think we helped a lot of people over there."

Cristina smiled at him and reached for his hand. "You did. You know, I think what you've done is amazing. I don't think I've told you that before."

Owen wished in that moment that he wasn't behind the wheel of a speeding vehicle because he had never wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her as much as he did then. He glanced across at her, hoping his face conveyed everything he wanted to say: how much he appreciated her words, her compassion, her being there for him. "Thank you."

She let the silence fill up with unspoken things and then eventually, with a deep breath, decided to lighten the tone. "Without meaning to sound like an annoying kid, are we nearly there yet?"

"About halfway," he replied, clearing his throat; clearing away the memories, making space for her and today and their adventure.

"Halfway? We've been on the road for over an hour already!" The two pints of water and mug of coffee were beginning to seem like a bad idea now.

"I know, hence the eight o'clock start." He squeezed her hand. "But it will be worth it, I know it will."

"Promises, promises," she murmured with a sexy smile that he wanted to lean over and taste. The second leg of the journey was going to be a long one if she kept looking at him like that.

II


	2. II

**A/N**: Thank you for the lovely reviews. Please note the rating has increased...

II

It was the start of summer, one of the first truly warm weekends Washington had had since the previous year. As they rounded a corner onto the coastal road just south of the Olympic National Forest and about ten miles shy of their destination, the view of the ocean glimmering in the morning sunshine was quite spectacular.

"So we're here?" Cristina asked impatiently.

"Almost. Just a bit further. See those lodges up on the hillside?" He pointed out of her window. "My family stayed up there every summer until I was fourteen. This is why I brought you here – isn't it beautiful?"Cristina had to concede that it was, with sweeping hills which merged into steep cliffs that overlooked the glittering water by about eighty feet. "This place has everything," Owen went on. "There are beaches in both directions, forests and lakes further up this road. My cousins and I used to bring our bikes and cycle all over, carrying our tents and fishing gear. My dad taught me how to light my first fire here aged seven."

She couldn't help but smile at the image of a young, freckly Owen building forts in the woods and chasing his cousins around. There were no other kids in Cristina's family and the closest she got to forming vacation friendships was at pony camp when she was eight, but by the following summer that sort of thing had lost its appeal.

Owen finally pulled up the truck in a car park to the side of the road and looked across at her with a big grin. "Right, we're here."

"Thank god, I really need to pee." As she made to open her door he put his hand on her thigh. "What?"

"Haven't I earned a kiss for driving all this way?"

She rolled her eyes. "It was your choice to come _all this way_."

He shrugged slightly. "Humor me?"

And of course, she couldn't resist. She felt his fingers run up her neck and into her hair as his lips met hers, and he wasted no time at all adding his tongue to the action. Cristina found herself wondering, as she always did when he kissed her, what else he could do with that talented mouth of his. She desperately hoped that when he dropped her back home tonight he'd accept her invitation to stay the night, because while she fantasized and joked about getting naked in the wilderness she didn't really want the first time they slept together to be all dirty and vertical against a tree, nor did she want him to be pulling splinters out of her back post-coitus.

She returned to the truck a few minutes later and found him lacing up a pair of well-worn hiking boots. "So we're walking now?" she asked, mildly annoyed that he wouldn't tell her the day's schedule. Surprises were not Cristina Yang's cup of tea, and she realized that she was yet again being pulled out of her comfort zone by the very hot man standing in front of her. First the outdoors, now her lack of fight to find out his plans for the day... Next thing she knew he'd have her singing karaoke or willingly working in pediatrics.

"Yes, and then I'm going to take you for lunch."

"Am I okay in my jeans?"As she got her own boots out of their brand new box and swapped them for her pumps, Cristina felt a strange little thrill at the way he was _taking _her for lunch rather than the two of them just _going_ there. Then she wondered where else he might take her, a silly innuendo encouraged by his next words:

"As long as you don't mind them getting a bit dirty, or sweaty."

"_Sweaty_? Um, how far are we going?" Sweaty was only ever a good look in bed. She imagined momentarily what Owen would feel and smell and taste like when he was moving above her, his slick skin sliding against hers.

When he took her arm and turned her towards the huge cliff up ahead, her fantasy disappeared immediately and a look of horror swept over her face. "Are we climbing up there?"

"Not climbing, hiking. It's not that steep."

"Are you _blind_?"

He chuckled. "Come on, I know a route with less of an incline. The view from the top is worth it, I promise." Another promise, he noted. What was it about her that had him so desperate to impress? He knew she wasn't the outdoors type and the fact she had agreed to come today made him promise _himself_ that he would make sure her trust in him, in his promises about how great it was all going to be, wasn't misplaced. He had a feeling that once lost, Cristina Yang's trust wasn't easily regained, which would be a big problem seeing as he wanted to be around for a long, long time.

She still looked sceptical, her nose adorably crinkled, so he kissed her lips and then continued along her jaw to whisper: "Where's your sense of adventure?"

Cristina shivered as his breath tickled her ear and neck, feeling the heat radiating from him across the barely-there space between them. The only adventure she wanted to go on right now was a trail of his mouth all over her body. What had gotten into her? She could barely keep her mind off of sex for more than five minutes. It wasn't really surprising – it had been over a year since Burke, and Owen kept standing far too close and kissing her far too well – but she would be mortified if he realized the effect he was having on her. There was showing genuine interest and then there was desperation: awkward sexual tension and then electric, spine-tingling sexual tension...

And now there was just sex.

God, she had missed sex. She wanted sex with Owen Hunt badly. And he had brought her to The Great _Fucking_ Outdoors where it wasn't just indecent, it was actually illegal to have sex.

Fantastic.

With a very deep, calming breath in and out, Cristina mentally pulled herself together and fixed a smile on her face. "Right, I'm ready." _Ready to jump you._ "Let's do this." _Let's do each other. _"Go for the adventure." _Go somewhere with a bed and four walls._

Her reference wasn't lost on Owen. "I knew you'd come around," he grinned, gazing at her fondly and brushing his fingers through her hair just like he'd done on the night they met. She seemed distracted by something - _I'd come anywhere right now_ - but as he gazed at her he sensed her forced smile slowly become real, and not for the first time he found himself thinking how that car accident had been the best thing to ever happen to him.

II

They made it to the top in about thirty minutes and, as promised, the view was incredible. The sun was almost at its peak and Cristina could feel her clothes sticking to her but somehow it didn't matter when she sat down on the grass with Owen beside her, both of them breathing heavily as they took in the vast ocean before them. He offered her a bottle of water from the pocket of his shorts and she gratefully took a long drink.

"This is even better than the West Point Light," he admitted, basking in the morning warmth, glad he had applied sun block before leaving his apartment.

"Is this what made you come back to Washington?" Cristina asked, handing him the bottle and then tipping her head back to let the cool breeze run through her hair. Owen watched her, mesmerized by the rising of her chest and the curve of her neck.

"Partly, I guess. I couldn't go back to my old job, couldn't be that same guy everyone thought they knew. And my mom's in Seattle."

"But you haven't been to see her yet." She kept any trace of judgement out of her voice, understanding now where he was coming from after his endearing _'Please see me'_ speech; besides, she would be the last person to force someone into seeing their mother.

"I know." Owen was still struggling with that particular decision and right now wasn't the time to worry about it - that was what the sleepless hours of the morning were for. "But knowing she's close and that I _could_ just go and see her if I had to is kind of comforting." He shrugged. "I know it's not rational, but these days I'm beginning to accept some things just aren't."

"You mean like kissing poor, defenceless stabbing victims you've only known for a few hours?"

He laughed in shock at her words. "_Stabbing_? Cristina, it wasn't a stabbing. If anything it was an impaling..."

She raised her eyebrows as his words raised her heart rate. "Okay... Well I could say your thigh laceration was just a- a _graze_."

"It was." The cocky grin Cristina remembered so vividly from the night they met was back, right here in front of her, and it was even more irresistible than it had been then. "But I have an awesome scar."

She tilted her head to one side and studied him, almost as if she were sizing him up for a challenge. "Can I see?"

"You already have."

"Yeah but that doesn't really count, you were practically passed out."

He still felt a shudder of embarrassment that she had had to strip him naked and put him to bed: it was something that he was very determined to erase from her memory when they finally went to bed together for real. And judging by the way things were going so far today he was pretty sure that time was coming sooner rather than later, which was perhaps what made him bold enough to say suggestively: "You show me yours and I'll show you mine."

Cristina considered him for a long moment, noticing the way the sun threw highlights onto his hair; the way the same golden heat filled her body when he smiled cheekily at her like that. She lay back on the grass and lifted up her top to reveal the small mark left by that damn icicle, and then she watched as he turned to her and his eyes took in her bare skin, seeming to trail all over until finally focussing on the tiny silver scar beneath her ribs.

"Can barely see it," he murmured, mostly to himself. He was literally, physically aching for her to lift up her top slightly higher, or for the waistband of her jeans to be a little lower, or hell – for her to rip off all her clothes and throw them into the wind. How he had thought this tantalizing glimpse of her body would quench his thirst and not leave him desperate for more was completely beyond him.

Cristina wondered if it would be clichéd for him to kiss her right now, high up on a breezy cliff overlooking the most beautiful sky and ocean like they were in a nineteenth century romance novel. Then she decided she just didn't care and placed her hand on his back, gently ushering him closer until his hip rested against hers. He seemed to get the hint and leaned down towards her, his fingertips running lightly up her abdomen, leaving a lovely tingling sensation in their wake.

"You did a good job fixing me up," she said quietly, gazing into his bright blue eyes. "Has anyone ever told you you'd make a good surgeon?"

Owen was barely listening, far too preoccupied with the way her mouth moved and her gorgeous curly hair spread out on the grass. "You are beautiful," he said eventually, making her smile, and he just knew they were in that moment where gravity was about to start pulling and there was no way on Earth to resist it.

"You didn't answer my question," she breathed, extremely aware of his fingers grazing the skin just beneath her bra, his fairly obvious desire against her thigh and the way her own body was responding to his teasingly slow approach.

"_So_?" He wasn't sure if he managed to say it before their lips met or if he just thought it, but it very quickly became obsolete as she slid her tongue into his mouth and her hands into his hair, making sexy little noises at the back of her throat which fuelled the desire roaring through his veins. He leaned ever closer, moving his knee over her legs and grinding his pelvis helplessly against her hip, needing to feel as much of her body against his as physically possible. When she placed his hand onto her breast they both moaned at the contact, and then he felt her squeeze his ass and it was almost too much for him.

This was passion on a whole new level for them and if it weren't for Cristina's sense of their location and her small palms eventually pressing up on his shoulders, he didn't know what might have happened – or rather he did, and it wasn't something fit for public display.

She gazed up at him, noting his momentary but very obvious loss of control and finding it both adorable and arousing. He definitely knew how to make out: she thought the way he'd kissed her on the vent was intense, but this was ridiculous. She hadn't wanted to break away from him but a minute longer and she'd have been pulling his clothes off and disgracing the both of them – a minute longer and she just wouldn't have cared.

He was smiling at her now, caressing the side of her neck, and she thought he was absolutely gorgeous and caring and somehow gentlemanly even as he kissed the hell out of her. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, his voice deep, and of course she couldn't tell him the truth because whilst she was falling for him, she was still Cristina Yang and she still didn't do soppy – that and sexy just did not mix, and she knew exactly which one she preferred.

She slipped her hand under the right leg of his shorts and searched until she found the soft, smooth line of his scar, aware of his curious gaze. "I'm thinking... that it's your turn to show me yours." He moved off of her slightly, bending his leg so she could hike up the material as far as it would go. Her touch so close to his groin was torture and he tried hard to keep his expression neutral as she looked and remarked: "Impressive."

"I know," he grinned, referring to something else entirely and making her laugh – God, her loved her laugh.

"Hmm. I thought it was bigger than that."

Was he imagining the incredibly sexy sparkle in her eye? "It is. You just haven't felt all the way up yet."

He sucked in a sharp breath as her fingertips reached the very top of his thigh, mere centimeters from where he desperately wanted them to be. Well, he had asked for that one. And he definitely wasn't fabricating anything about the way she was looking at him.

"Are we still talking about the scar?" she asked with a frown, very much enjoying making him squirm. She was so tempted to slide her hand across to the very obvious bulge in his shorts and really step up the heat, but something held her back - maybe it was their location, or the fact it would be cruel when they had the rest of the day to get through, or that it was simply too intimate just yet and she didn't want him to think she was a horrible tease.

Whatever it was, Owen made the decision for her by catching her wrist between his fingers and gently removing it from his shorts. "I don't know," he said softly, "But I'm gonna have to stop you there or it is going to be one long, long day."

Cristina sat up and pulled her top back down over her abdomen. "What happens at the end of the day?" She was no longer playing the flirt - she genuinely wanted to know if his ideas for the evening matched hers, because if they didn't she wasn't sure what she would do about it.

Owen knew exactly what she was asking, and he knew what he wanted to say, but just for a moment he hesitated. More than anything he wanted to take her to bed tonight - he'd take her there right now if he could - but he was wary because it would mean letting her in to his nightmares; to the true extent of the horror of the war and the conflict he was still fighting every day. And he knew that once they went there, there would be no turning back: sex with her would be the beginning of the end because he couldn't have Cristina Yang once and then simply change his mind and retreat - she was far too lovely, too tempting, too easy to fall in love with.

Was it wrong for him to let her into his life right now, when she didn't really have a clue how deep his problems ran? She had already agreed to date him despite what she had seen, and that meant more to him than she would ever know, but sealing their relationship tonight would tie them together and whilst they were both desperate for that, he just wasn't sure if it was wise.

Having said that though, he wasn't sure what was wise any more: all he knew was that being with Cristina was one of the few things that made him feel better – feel _something_ – and surely having more of her, giving her more of him, could only be a good thing? Why run away from the person who had already helped him more than he could ever thank her for?

And so he looked into her eyes and said quite seriously: "I'm going to drive you home, and then we'll see what happens. You know I want you, Cristina. I want you a lot."

"I can tell," she murmured, and he smiled.

"I know. And I'm not going to apologize for it because I'd be lying." He brushed his fingers through her hair, aware that he was definitely falling in that moment and there was nothing he could do about it. "But you know it's complicated, and I don't want to ruin what we already have. So I'm saying... we'll see."

Whilst Cristina understood completely where he was coming from, she also knew nothing was going to deter her from having a relationship with this handsome, broken man: she was in far too deep to back out now, and why would she leave on the day that the heat between them had reached fever pitch? His battle was more to do with himself than with them, and whilst she respected he had to fight it alone, she was going to do everything in her power to help him reach a conclusion sooner rather than later.

"Okay," she told him, and he knew she meant it. "But can I just ask one thing? Say tonight, if we get home and Callie's out all evening, and I just happen to find an open bottle of wine and some take out in the fridge, and then I accidentally ending up wearing some really provocative lingerie... What would be the chances of something happening?" She searched his face, hoping to catch the moment his decision was made. "You don't have to think too hard. Just give me, say, a percentage."

And sure enough there it was, The Moment: when Owen realized that despite her flirting and teasing she really did see him, and that she was in this whether or not he would allow her to be.

"I would guess," he said slowly, finally letting down the last of his guard and allowing her in, a feeling which was both terrifying and yet slowly started to warm him from the inside out, "Around ninety five. But throw in a hot shower together and I'd probably have to say ninety eight."

And just like that, he was ninety eight percent in love with her.


	3. III

**A/N**: Thanks again for the kind reviews. :) Hope you enjoy this part.

II

They strolled back down the cliff path, more comfortable now in the knowledge that they were on the same page. It was past midday and the sun was blazing down on them: Cristina found herself looking at the back of Owen's neck as he descended a set of narrow steps in front of her, his fair skin already a little pink. Then she realized she was smiling just thinking about that body part and the fact he liked the back of her own neck so much. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail, hoping he might notice and compliment her again, then quickly caught herself in her moment of madness. What the hell was she doing, changing her hair in the hope of impressing him? The sun was obviously getting to her as well.

Still, she definitely saw his gaze trail over her neck when they got back into the truck, and even though he didn't say anything she felt a ridiculous rush of pleasure that he had noticed.

He took her to a pretty beachside café up the road and they talked about work whilst sipping freshly squeezed juice and watching the hundreds of people on the beach: it seemed like the whole state had come over to enjoy the weather. They ordered sandwiches and fries, and Owen watched her eat, every so often stealing food off his plate like he had seen her do with her friends so many times in the hospital cafeteria. He wondered where all that food went - it certainly didn't make it onto any part of her lithe body as far as he could tell.

"Did you not get fed as a child?" he asked finally after she took a big piece of meat out of the end of his steak baguette and nibbled on it thoughtfully.

"What?"

"You keep eating my food, not that I mind. Do you even realize you're doing it?"

She shrugged, and Owen couldn't help but smile at how adorable she was. "Yeah. You can help yourself to mine too. Why do you look so surprised? Didn't I do this when we went out for dinner?"

"No, actually, this is new."

Cristina had never really thought about her eating habits before: as far as she was concerned, when sharing a meal with someone close any food on the table was fair game because getting to try just one dish was boring. "Well, get used to it. The food at that restaurant was amazing, we're definitely going again."

Owen was slightly taken aback by her words - did she realize she'd just planned another date for them? She didn't seem to, happily munching away on her salad and another piece of his sandwich. From the outside Cristina could seem very indifferent and quite cold, but here on the inside she was open and warm and he was beginning to realize how unfortunate other people were not to be let in.

Not that he particularly wanted to share her now, though.

After lunch they walked along the seafront and Cristina tried to remember the last time she'd been to the beach. "I think it was on graduation from Berkeley," she said eventually. "A group of us drove out in the evening. The only bit I really remember is throwing up all over my motel room and then having the biggest hangover of my life on the ride home."

Owen didn't want to remember the last time he'd been to the beach - he was glad Cristina didn't ask him to recall it because he'd have to make up a lie on the spot. It was actually on holiday in California with Beth after his first tour and she'd not stopped talking about babies the entire week, which was ironic as he'd spent the last few months operating not only on soldiers but on dozens of Iraqi children, most of them victims of car bombs or land mines, and right then he couldn't think of anything worse than bringing a child into that kind of world.

Thinking about Beth again made him feel very uneasy, especially having just seen her and telling her about her father's cancer. He knew that email wasn't his finest moment, and he would probably feel guilty about it for the rest of his life, but he had lived in hell, had been scared for his own life and those of him comrades more times than he could count and after it was all over he just couldn't go home to a woman who was afraid of her own shadow. His experiences in Iraq had changed him, even before his unit got destroyed, and he knew his life with Beth just wasn't going to work.

Cristina Yang on the other hand, well she was a lot tougher. He'd even heard Derek mention that she had a motorbike, something Owen found incredibly hot. Suddenly he felt he needed to explain more about his last relationship; whilst she had pretended not to be interested when he invited her to ask questions, he felt he could still do more to clear him name.

They stopped walking by an ice cream stand as Cristina decided she was going to buy one. "How are you still hungry?" Owen asked, amused.

"I don't know. Maybe because you wouldn't let me finish your fries?"

He wasn't entirely sure if she was joking. "I just don't understand, I've never seen anyone eat so much and yet be so..." He struggled to find the right word. Hot? Stunning? Desirable? "Petite," he finished lamely, and Cristina shrugged with a rather smug smile.

"I guess it's genetic. I've just got excellent, attractive genes, so dominant they defy the influence of environmental factors - by which I mostly mean alcohol and junk food."

Owen laughed but the Beth issue remained in the front of his mind. He dropped his gaze to the floor, trying to find the best way to bring up this difficult topic. When he looked up again, Cristina was licking her ice cream and he lost his train of thought for a second as he watched her pink tongue move between her lips.

"What?" she asked, catching him staring, wondering what was bothering him.

"I, er... I want to talk about Beth."

"Owen- "

"No, please hear me out." His eyes implored her to listen to him. "I have to explain some things."

Cristina went and sat down on the low wall which separated the sand from the sidewalk. "Look, we don't have to do this, the whole 'ex talk' thing. I really don't need to know."

"Okay. Can I please tell you one thing though?" He sat beside her and she eyed him sceptically.

"As long as you're not expecting me to share something in return. Not that I have anything horrendous to hide, I just don't see the point. The past is the past, you know?"

If only.

"Yeah. But I just wanted to say that I broke up with her for the right reason, and at the right time - unfortunately for us both, I just happened to be in the sand pit when I realized it was over. I didn't phone her because it was difficult to get a good line out there, and I thought that two sentences in an email would be a quick and easy blow instead of subjecting her to some great spiel about how I had changed and how we were no longer right for each other. And I definitely didn't want to wait another three months before coming home to break up with her in person; it wouldn't have been fair to her."

He took a deep breath, immediately feeling a weight lifting off his chest. Cristina watched him for a long moment, his words striking something inside her she had long thought buried. "I get it," she said quietly. "I understand. Sometimes it's just not right. Better to end it as soon as you realize that, otherwise you might get all the way to the church and then..."

She trailed off, realizing she had almost said too much. Owen's eyes searched hers, curious as to whether she was referring to herself: if she had been a victim like Beth, or even the perpetrator like himself. As usual, she gave nothing away, only smiled slightly and said: "You don't need to explain yourself to me, Owen. I just want you, now, in the after. Okay?"

And he was absolved. "Okay."

II

They spent the afternoon, of all places, on a fishing boat. Cristina couldn't stop thinking about what Meredith would say if she knew, probably because she herself would have said exactly the same if anyone else had proposed this idea to her. _"Fishing? _Fishing?_ Cristina Yang does not _do_ fishing!"_

But when taken to a small, motorized hire boat moored at the edge of a large sunny lake by a man who somehow managed to look as excited as a five-year-old and highly desirable at the same time, and who seemed to have already realized that to persuade her into anything he just had to kiss her in that soft, passionate way which made her head spin, the same Cristina Yang just could not say no.

"Are we allowed to talk?" she asked before climbing aboard. "Because whenever Shepherd goes on about fishing he's all 'It's so quiet and peaceful' and I'm not gonna lie, I will get seriously bored just sitting out there for hours in silence."

Owen found her little speech very endearing; in fact he found how quickly she had agreed to the idea endearing too. He had been thinking up reasons to persuade her to say yes for a while now, because anyone who had spent any amount of time with her would realize she was not the fishing type, but in the end it had only taken a little kiss, a hint of what was to come later. Now he got to spend time with her and enjoy one of his favorite hobbies.

"Of course we can talk," he told her as he loaded his fishing gear onto the small boat. "Why would I take you out for the day and then just sit in silence?"

Cristina watched the muscles moving beneath his t-shirt and shorts, specifically admiring his broad shoulders, taut ass and long legs: she had never seen his calves before today but had quickly decided they were shapely and strong without being too bulky. In other words, pretty damn fine.

"I don't know," she replied to his question. "Maybe it's your backup in case the date's going really badly - kind of 'sit down and shut up, woman'."

He walked over to her and put his hands on her arms, looking at her close up. "First of all, I would never tell a woman to shut up outside of my role as an attending, and then only when absolutely necessary. And second of all, do you think this date is going badly? Because I certainly don't."

She could feel his breath on her lips, smell the scent of his skin mingled in with the pine trees all around them. How was he having this effect on her so consistently? "Well," she said, hoping he couldn't tell how flustered he was making her, "Walking and fishing are not usually my thing - and by not usually I mean _never_ - but I can think of one of two redeeming factors."

"Like?"

Cristina feigned nonchalance. "Like... ice cream. And sunshine. And, well, I suppose you're not bad company for a glorified first aider."

Owen laughed. "That's the best I'm going to get, isn't it?"

"You bet. Take it while you can, Nature Boy." She pecked a kiss on his lips and turned around to board the boat; as he climbed on behind her a moment later she resumed her inspection of his body and then, when they had set off and he was standing at the back steering the motor, she gave him just a little bit more. "Actually, for a trauma guy, you are kinda hot."

It was worth it for the grin which spread over his face, partly at her compliment and partly because it felt like a small victory in the trauma versus cardio debate he suspected was going to continue for a long time, probably until he either switched specialty (unlikely) or died (hopefully not).

Cristina added an afterthought: "But if you tell the cardio gods I said that they will hunt you down and tear out your heart with their bare hands, because they are just that awesome."

"Okay," he said with a placating nod, trying not to laugh at her unbelievable cuteness, but there was more to come.

"And then, because they're cardio gods, they will give your heart to a very sick man or woman who will go on to cure cancer. And AIDS. So even though they had to kill you, they will still save millions of lives." She looked very smug for someone who had just spouted a complete load of nonsense.

"Right." Owen dragged out the word. "I, um... I think I'm going to have to break my rule and tell you to shut up now, _woman_." He said it seriously but she knew he was taking the piss.

"How dare you! You're not my attending out here."

He lowered his voice suggestively. "I could be, if you wanted me to. I could persuade you to come over to the dark side of trauma."

He could persuade her to do anything he liked when he looked at her like that. "How did you know I have a thing for authority figures, oh hot trauma surgeon guy?" she simpered, curling a lock of her hair around her finger. "Somebody get a crash cart stat, you're sending my heart into v. fib."

Then she switched off the act as quickly as it had appeared and said in her normal voice: "Hell will freeze over and Meredith and I will untwist before I go anywhere near your dark side."

Owen just laughed at her little show, at her caustic but endearing sense of humor. He thought she looked so pretty with the sun on her skin and her brown eyes sparkling with amusement at their conversation. She was like a breath of fresh air, like no other woman he had ever met, and if he could have crossed the deck and taken her in his arms without upsetting the boat he would have been over there in an instant.

When they reached the centre of the lake, a bountiful spot where he had caught hundreds of fish over the years, Owen switched off the motor and set up his lines. He gave Cristina a brief tutorial on the basics of the sport even though he knew she was barely listening - it turned out her mind was elsewhere.

"I was just wondering," she said at last when they were seated side by side looking out across the eerily still water, "What else made you come back to Seattle?"

Owen was a bit confused. "Well, my mom and the Chief's job offer, which was too good to refuse."

She nodded slowly. "So, nothing else?"

"You mean... you?" He didn't have her down as the type of woman who was interested in hearing that kind of thing, and it intrigued him.

"Maybe." She shrugged. "I'm genuinely just curious: I'm not asking because I want or need you to say you came back for me. I just wanna know if you're the guy who kisses and forgets, or who kisses and... wants more."

"I, um..." He didn't know what to do - should he admit that he did want more, did think about her almost every day until his unit blew up and pushed the memory of her into the before? Or was that just not cool? "I thought about you sometimes. And then I came back and got you." He smiled cockily, hoping that was the conversation over with, but no such luck.

"What made you think you could have me so easily?" she challenged. "I might have been with someone. I might have been married with kids and a yappy little dog."

Owen thought about it for a moment, but he didn't have a proper answer for her. Maybe it was the fact that women who were taken didn't look at men like she had looked at him that night. "I just knew," he told her honestly, still smiling, and then leaned in and kissed her.

When they broke apart a minute later, Cristina gazed at him with a fresh wave of longing. "I think this is the part where you tell me I should wear my hair up more often," she breathed, mindful of his hands running lightly over her waist. "Have you always had a thing for the back of people's necks, or is it just mine?"

He smiled and began to press kisses along her jaw, into her hair, his beard deliciously rough on her skin. "Just yours," he murmured, "Although I think I misled you. Please don't believe I only like the back of your neck, because actually I think I have a thing for every part of you."

"Even my icicle scar?"

"Especially your icicle scar." He slid his fingers under her top to the same area he had been fascinated by earlier, this time brave enough to continue upwards and cup her breast all on his own, brushing his thumb over her nipple through the lace of her bra. Instantly a pulse of heat shot straight through her and she couldn't stop a whimper escaping past her lips. She lifted his chin and kissed him, meeting his eager tongue with her own as his free hand slipped down briefly over the front of her jeans, teasing her with the lightest pressure which was still enough to make her hips buck helplessly against him.

Oh god, this was going to kill her: she was actually going to die if he didn't put his fingers in her pants or his cock inside her or do _something_ to give her some relief _right now_. She moaned his name, hoping to convey how desperately she needed him, and rubbed her palm against his crotch, the hardness there turning her on even more.

"Cristina, stop," he breathed but she wasn't in the mood to listen.

"I want you." She nibbled on his neck, stroking him harder, feeling her panties getting wetter by the second.

"I want you too, but we can't..." She wasn't paying attention so he raised her face to his, waiting until her eyes focused before speaking in a rough voice: "Cristina, not here. We'll capsize."

That might have been funny if she weren't so preoccupied by the pounding between her legs. "No we won't, it'll be fine."

Her hand was still torturing him so he took her by the wrist and held it out of the way. Then he spoke slowly and clearly to her, willing her to understand his words. "We _will_ capsize because I want to fuck you so hard that this boat won't stand a chance. I want to see you completely naked and I want to take my time enjoying you, and I cannot do that in the middle of a lake. So, _we have to stop_."

They looked at each other for a long moment, breathing heavily. He didn't seem to realize that his words, his promises, had just made things a hundred times worse for her, but she knew he was completely right. Sex on a small boat was not what she had in mind for their first time, nor would it be fun to end up in the murky water amongst the fish she had forgotten they were supposed to be catching.

"Damn it," she muttered, putting her head in her hands, willing her hormone-flooded, adrenaline-fuelled body to calm down. "Damn it, damn it, damn it."

Owen felt exactly the same frustration but didn't vocalize it; instead he clenched his fists, fixed his eyes on the trees in the distance and tried desperately to think unsexy thoughts. He had managed to go without for a long time now, he could make it a few more hours. It felt bizarrely like they had just had a fight: they couldn't look at one another, couldn't speak to each other and were both feeling pretty angry at the situation.

After a few minutes thinking of some of the most horrendous trauma cases he had ever seen and starting to feel more normal again, he said quietly to Cristina: "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have started that. I just couldn't... I'm sorry."

He reached out a hand towards her knee but she swatted him away. "Don't," she said in a low voice, not meeting his eyes. "Don't touch me right now, because I might just explode. Don't look at me, and definitely don't look at the back of my neck." Her tone softened slightly and she added: "I know I sound mad and I don't mean to be, but I can't help it."

Owen was about to reply, to try and say something to make her feel better when he noticed one of his lines was pulling. "Hey, looks like we've got a bite." He quickly lifted the rod and started reeling in, aware of Cristina watching him now, hoping this was taking her mind off of their predicament. When the fish broke the surface of the water, struggling against the hook in its pink mouth, she gasped and stood up, clearly afraid it was somehow going to attack her. The boat rocked sharply, tilting them forwards and then back before gradually settling again, and they both exhaled in relief.

The momentary panic she felt when the fish leapt out of the lake towards her was enough to extinguish the embers of desire inside, but even if it hadn't been, watching Owen quickly kill the damn thing and now looking at its slippery scales and long, thick whiskers would have done the job just as easily.

"Rainbow trout," he told her. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't say that."

Owen looked at her, sensing it was now okay to do so. "This has turned you right off hasn't it?"

She made a face. "You think? It's horrible and slimy. The last time I was this close to a fresh fish was biology class in high school."

"I bet you finished first and did the best dissection though, right?"

She shrugged, hiding the secret thrill that his compliment elicited. "Of course."

"Thought so. Well, even if you don't like him, this little guy will make an excellent dinner."

"Ooh, what _are_ we doing for dinner tonight?"

Owen chuckled at her continual enthusiasm for food. "Hungry again already?"

"_No_." She glared at him. "But if you're expecting me to eat that thing then I'm out."

He placed the fish into the small cool box he had brought along. "I wasn't, but don't knock it till you've tried it. Actually, I thought we could eat here before heading back, seeing as we've come all this way."

Cristina considered his offer, knowing that it would delay them getting to bed by a couple of hours but then they would have to eat something at her place anyway. Besides, a nice meal with him was preferable to another take out despite the fact it wasn't so easy to just have each other for dessert in a restaurant...

"Okay," she agreed. "But then we're going back to my place and I am going to give you the best ninety eight percent of your life. Deal?"

Owen didn't think he had ever had a better offer. "Deal."

II


	4. IV

**A/N: **Yes, another chapter so soon - the reason being, I'm away as of tomorrow for 4 weeks (hello Sri Lankan sunshine) so I'm trying to get this up asap. The reviews you are leaving are absolutely wonderful and more than inspire me to keep writing, so thank you so much.

This is the penultimate part – final chapter will be a long one.

II

They stayed out on the lake for a couple more hours, soaking up the sun and talking about the hospital; even occasionally reeling in another fish. Cristina filled him in on the history between Meredith and Derek despite his protests that he just didn't care; she told stories about them all as interns, the cases they had worked on, the stupid and brilliant things they had done. In return he shared a few interesting tales of his own - the eccentric and downright bizarre injuries which rolled through the ER doors.

They didn't touch each other once, both afraid of the spark it might generate and the mess they'd end up in again, but it didn't stop her from staring at his gorgeous profile and lithe body when she thought he wasn't looking. She hated to admit it but fishing was incredibly relaxing - or perhaps it was just his company.

Eventually, when his cool box was full with four large trout, Owen restarted the motor and let her steer them back to shore. She could barely believe it was gone five o'clock by the time they returned to his car and she was beginning to feel hungry, although she couldn't possibly admit that to him for fear of further ridicule.

"Can you just go round the front while I change?" she asked, digging in her holdall for the spare clothes he had told her to bring. Now that the risk of getting wet had passed she wanted to put on a fresh outfit for dinner.

"Good idea, I'll just grab my stuff and do the same."

She tried to hard to keep her gaze away from his ass as he leaned into the back of the truck but it was difficult, and in the end she just gave in and had a good look whilst he couldn't see her. Then he disappeared and she swapped her blue denims for a black pair and dark tank top for a white one, pulling on her asymmetric grey sweater which slipped off one shoulder. She was quickly running a brush through her hair when Owen reappeared looking very sexy in smart jeans and a dark shirt: he smelt of cologne and she could see already the effect of the day's sunshine on his freckly skin.

"Wow," he breathed, taking in her simple but flattering outfit, "You look stunning."

When she smiled at him like that - a smile that would be described as coy on anyone but Cristina Yang - he just wanted to hold her in his arms. He cautiously asked her if that would be okay and she nodded and stepped into his embrace, focusing on enjoying the strength and warmth of his body rather than on thoughts of what she would like him to do with it later on that night. She could definitely get used to having this man in her life, with his powerful hugs and the tender way he ran his palms over her back.

"Have you enjoyed today?" he asked into her hair, which was so soft and smelt deliciously fruity.

"Yes." She lifted her head off his chest to look up at him, then gestured around at the trees and the lake. "I wasn't sure what I was going to make of this but I've had a really good day, so thank you."

She reached up for a kiss, then gazed at him seriously and added: "And we are going to have a _really_ good night."

Owen smiled down at her, one hundred percent convinced she was right. "I'm not going to argue with you," he murmured, pressing his lips to hers again, marvelling at the fact that he could just kiss her now whenever he wanted (which was pretty much all the time).

They drove back towards the coast, the sun bright in their eyes and Cristina's iPod on the speakers once again. She sat still, resisting the urge to move to the music, and watched Owen out of the corner of her eye; every so often he would glance over and smile at her, and she would want him just a little bit more.

"I think this is the place," he said at last, pulling into a space on the roadside and indicating a smart-looking restaurant across the street. The last time Owen had been here was with his parents over ten years ago but the name had stuck in his head. "Looks like it's been completely renovated. Hopefully the food is as good as it used to be."

They were greeted by a waiter who asked if they would like to dine al fresco; Cristina wondered how, as the front of the building sat right on the sidewalk, but he led them through the well-lit restaurant to a huge veranda at the back which was separated from the beach and rolling waves by only a balustrade. Many of the tables were already full but mercifully the patrons were all sensible-looking adults - it was obviously too upmarket to bring fussy children.

Their table was to the side of the deck, nicely sheltered from the breeze by the building next door. Owen offered her the seat which faced the ocean and he sat to her right so he didn't have to turn his back to the incredible scenery: his memory of this place didn't do it justice in the slightest.

"This is beautiful." Cristina wasn't sure she'd ever dined with such a view: even the posh restaurants her mother and stepfather had taken her to in Beverly Hills over the years couldn't compete with this, although she suspected its charm and appeal had a lot to do with the man sitting beside her as well.

Owen smiled at her, his gaze eventually falling to her hands resting on the table. He noted how delicate they were compared to his own; then he realized suddenly that he had touched her breasts twice now, had touched a lot of her wonderful body, but he had never held her hands. Why was it that they were a more intimate part than the rest of her? He supposed any old pair of lovers could have access to all areas behind closed doors, but linking fingers out in the open was a symbol of something more - something public, something to show off about, something to tell the world: _'Hey, look at us, we're a couple!'_

He was desperately fighting the urge to reach out and touch her lovely hands, just to see what they would feel like beneath his own, and simultaneously wondering what name he would put on their relationship when the waiter reappeared and solved both dilemmas for him: firstly by offering Cristina a menu which she held up to peruse, and secondly with his casual words as he asked them what they would like to drink.

"I'll just have water thanks, with ice," Owen said, not at all bothered about being tee-total today.

"And for your lady friend?"

"Um, could I get a glass of white wine please?" As soon as the waiter had gone, Cristina turned to Owen with a frown. "Am I your lady friend now? Your _girlfriend_?" The word felt strange on her tongue.

"Uh... do you want to be?"

She thought about it for a moment. "I... don't know."

"Well, I don't really care." He would call her anything she liked as long as he got to be with her. "Does it matter? I'll call you my girlfriend if you want."

"I suppose. It just sounds a bit silly. I mean, I'm not a girl and you're certainly not a boy."

She watched as the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile and his glance drifted down her body. Then he caught himself, caught her staring, and his little smile transformed into a full grin. "No, I'm not. I'm a man's man," he said in a really deep voice, tensing his left bicep in a ridiculous macho pose. Cristina laughed at this unexpected display and reached out to feel his upper arm only to have her hand stopped by his.

"No touching. Not yet," he admonished in a very suggestive tone and she laughed again.

"When can there be touching?" she asked, cocking her head to the side rather adorably as she had done up on the cliff. "I mean, I'm only here for the touching..."

Unfortunately she didn't get to hear his reply as their drinks arrived, but their gazes remained locked and the fire in his eyes sent shivers right through her.

"Are you ready to order yet?"

It took a second for the waiter's voice, and indeed his continued presence, to register with Owen; when it did, the spell was broken and he looked up to the young man apologetically. "No, not yet, sorry."

"No problem, I'll come back."

Owen smiled self-consciously at his beautiful date, feeling his cheeks reddening at the fact he had been caught daydreaming by the waiter. There was suddenly a very awkward atmosphere as he and Cristina tried to get rid of the thoughts about where exactly they would like to touch each other, both of them aware they were thinking the same thing, but he felt slightly better when he noticed that she was blushing too.

"Um, where were we?" she said finally, shaking the last naughty thoughts from her mind, reminding herself that in a few hours they would be home and she could – and would – be as naughty as she liked. She took a sip of wine, smiling slightly at him over the glass: he was very cute when he was flustered.

"We were talking about whether or not I'm going to start calling you my girlfriend." Owen decided it was probably wise to brush over the last part of their conversation for the time being, otherwise they'd never look at the menu and never make it home.

"Oh, yeah." She pretended to read the entrées whilst debating with herself whether or not she could be known as Cristina Yang, Owen Hunt's Girlfriend. Hearing it in her mind sounded weird. This morning she had been plain old Cristina Yang and now her name was about to be tied to his indefinitely. It felt like a big step, but then she had taken many big steps today: willingly visiting The Outdoors; getting him to talk about Iraq; confessing that she wanted to sleep with him and almost ending up doing so twice.

He obviously noticed her hesitation. "We don't have to discuss this now, if you don't want. I told you, I really don't care what label you want to stick on yourself."

"I know. And I know it's stupid to think too much about it." She sighed. "I like definitions though. If you define something you can fix it."

Owen raised his eyebrows. "So we need fixing?"

"No, I meant in medicine you idiot."

"Ah. Well, just let me know when you decide. Girlfriend, partner, significant other, escort- " She swatted his arm, laughing. "-I really don't mind." He grinned, took a drink of water and at last turned his full attention to the menu so that when the poor waiter came back they could actually order.

"Do you like sea bass?" he asked her a minute later.

"Yeah. I think I'm going to go for the wild mushroom risotto though."

"Sounds good. What about shrimp linguini?"

"Mm, I love shrimp."

"Right."

She frowned at him. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, just trying to order something you don't like so I can have the whole dish to myself." He moved back as she reached out to hit him again, his eyes alight with amusement.

"You are hilarious, you know that?"

"I try."

They ordered - Owen choosing the sea bass after all - and then looked out at the beach, lulled into comfortable silence by sound of the waves as the tide slowly made its way out. Many other restaurants on the street had similar verandas and they could smell various cuisines over the salty tang of the ocean on the air.

About four buildings to their left, people suddenly started spilling out of a hotel onto the sand: some of them were carrying tables and chairs, others colorful lanterns on short poles which they stuck in the ground, all of them dressed very smartly. Then a few minutes later a bride in a big white dress and her very dapper groom descended from the hotel balcony, closely followed by a selection of bridesmaids, groomsmen and a man with a camera who was snapping away.

Cristina and Owen looked on as they posed for various shots, some with their guests, some in the water where the groom took off his shoes and his wife held her dress up to her knees, or he held her up in his arms. The sun was nearing the horizon and casting dazzling pink and orange hues across the sky, a glorious backdrop for the couple's big day.

Cristina was thrown back in time to her wedding day: would she and Burke ever have looked as gloriously happy as this man and woman? She certainly couldn't imagine him laughing in the ocean or letting little kids clamber up into his arms with wet, sandy feet, ruining his expensive suit. But Owen, on the other hand... He would laugh in the ocean, she was almost as sure of it as she was of her next breath. He would kiss her and not care if waves were crashing over their heads.

Owen was having similar thoughts about Beth and the world of difference between her and the woman he was currently picturing in a wedding dress - not that he was getting ahead of himself, he just seemed to have temporarily lost control over his mind's eye. She looked absolutely beautiful in his vision, with her hair blowing around her face and the sunset glowing on her skin. When he glanced at her across the table now, she was just as lovely and he leaned over and kissed her cheek, his lips lingering there until she turned her head and offered him her mouth instead. He could taste the wine on her tongue, smell her gorgeous shampoo again, and a huge rush of desire rose up inside him.

When they broke apart he couldn't think of a single thing to say to describe the magnitude of what he was feeling, so he told her she was beautiful and then kissed her again when she smiled so sweetly. They were interrupted by the arrival of their meal and a slightly embarrassed waiter, but neither particularly noticed him. As they ate they talked about weddings they had been to and Owen found Cristina's animated cynicism quite endearing.

"My mother still has a huge photo of me on her sitting room wall dressed in a poofy pink dress and pigtails at her wedding to my stepfather. I literally cannot bear to look at it, which is one of the reasons I never visit her."

"You don't?"

She made a face. "She's an absolute nightmare. Don't get me started."

"Okay." He held up his hands defensively. "What do you want to talk about that won't make you angry?"

"Ooh, let's talk about cardio surgeries."

He chuckled and let her begin. He had absolutely no idea how one tiny person could have so much drive and ambition inside of them but Cristina was practically overflowing with the stuff. The impassioned way she talked was absolutely charming and he felt incredibly proud of her, that she had turned something so horrendous into such a brilliant and promising career. Maybe in the future, when she was accepting awards and job offers at the best hospitals in the country, he would be there for her to throw her arms around as her eyes lit up with success.

He definitely hoped so. He didn't know why, but there was just something about Cristina Yang - about her warmth, her compassion; the ease with which they talked and the fire when they kissed - that made him think they could be together for a long, long time to come... Even if it meant never again getting to eat a full meal to himself.


	5. V

**A/N: **Here is your finale. Once again I can't say how much your reviews mean to me, you've all literally made me the happiest writer and C/O fangirl in the world. I hope to write more stories when I return, and until then – fingers crossed for the season premiere. :)

II

"Let's go inside for a drink," Cristina suggested after they had shared a delicious stack of crêpes with homemade chocolate sauce. Her thin sweater was not much protection from the strong sea breeze that was gradually rising as the waves departed and the sun dipped below the horizon. The wedding party were still outside, most of them sitting around tables on the beach; as it got darker, their pretty multi-colored lanterns shone more brightly giving the whole scene a foreign, fairytale-like magic.

As they found seats at the bar and Cristina scanned the cocktail menu, she had a sudden flash of inspiration - or was it madness? She turned to Owen, who was stuck browsing the non-alcoholic section.

"I've just had an idea. Let's stay here for the night."

"_Here?_" He glanced up at her then looked around the restaurant, momentarily blindsided into stupidity by her unexpected statement.

"Uh, yeah, because I normally like to sleep in restaurants." She looked at him incredulously, fighting back laughter. "Of course not _here_ here - in a really nice hotel or something. I'll use my phone to find a good one nearby and then book us in. You're off tomorrow, right?"

"I- Yes, I am." She seemed to have gone into organisational mode and he didn't quite know what to make of it.

"I'm supposed to be working but I'll just go ring Mer and get her to cover my shift tomorrow; she was whining about Shepherd having to go in on her day off, so now they can spend it together after all."

Owen put his hand on her arm as she made to get up. "Are you sure you want to stay here? Honestly, I'm happy not drinking and driving us home. Don't put yourself out just so I can have a beer."

"I'm not putting myself out." She looked so delighted at her brilliant idea that he felt himself giving in by the second. "Come on, we get to explore a fancy hotel room and you don't have to stay in my messy apartment. Where's your sense of adventure, hmm?"

He couldn't exactly say no to her now that she had thrown his own words back at him - not that he wanted to: the thought of staying here with her in a nice suite and not having to make the long drive home tonight was actually pretty fantastic. "Okay, I'm in. As long as Meredith doesn't mind."

"You let me worry about her and get yourself a proper drink."

II

Cristina went to Owen's truck to fetch her phone before going back inside where she called Meredith from the ladies' room. Her person answered after the first ring, just as she was expecting: she knew she would be dying to know what they were up to on their big day out.

"Cristina! Where are you? How's it going? You haven't replied to a single one of my texts!"

"I'm sorry, I haven't had my phone on me. But yeah, it's going... really well." She couldn't keep the smile out of her voice.

"Really?"

"Uh huh. We're on the coast, I can't remember the name of this particular town."

"And what have you been doing all day?"

"Walking, eating, fishing; we've just- "

_-Finished dinner_, she was going to say before Meredith cut in with: "You've been walking? And _fishing?_ Cristina!" Her tone was accusatory, like Cristina had broken some twisted sisterly bond, which she probably had. If she began to like these outdoorsy things that would put her on Derek's side, and between the two couples Meredith would be outnumbered three to one.

"I know, I know. But it was actually nice, it's been really sunny here all day and we just chatted. Oh, and made out. A lot. Honestly Mer, Owen is _really_ good at it for a trauma guy."

"So he's _Owen_ now, is he?"

"Well, that is his name. I can't call him Doctor Hunt forever."

It seemed to take Meredith a moment to reply. "You're talking about forever now?"

"What? No, it's just a figure of speech." She felt annoyed at having to explain herself, almost certainly because she was quite scared by some of the things that were coming out of her own mouth and misdirecting this as anger towards her person. "Anyway, Mer, listen. We're miles away from Seattle and we're in a nice restaurant so I suggested to Owen that he should have a drink, which means we'll have to stay here for the night."

She could practically see Meredith raising her eyebrows, mouth agape. "Okay, wow. Is there anything else you _suggested_ to _Owen_?"

Cristina sighed in exasperation. "A month in the pit for you if you don't stop reading too much into everything I say!"

"Okay, okay. Sorry. But does this mean you two are finally gonna get to have dirty sex?"

Even the mention of it made Cristina's skin prickle in anticipation. "Well, that's kind of the idea of staying here, yes. Anyway, I'm supposed to be on a late tomorrow and I was wondering if- "

"Yes yes, of course I'll cover you! Cristina! This is huge. This is exciting, this- "

"This is me hanging up on you now before you get any more hysterical. Thanks for the favor Mer, I owe you big time. Goodnight."

"I hope it is! Stay safe, don't do anything- "

Cristina hung up, smiling fondly to herself. Meredith really was the best, even if she got a bit overexcited from time to time. She did a quick search of nearby hotels online, called up the smartest looking one with the highest star rating and made a reservation for a room with a beach view. When she returned to the bar she put her arms around Owen's neck and kissed him quite thoroughly, catching his surprised murmur between her lips.

"All sorted."

He smiled at her, thinking for the hundredth time how unpredictable and wonderful she was. "Great. I got you another glass of wine." As he passed it over to her their fingers brushed and seemed to set off sparks of electricity through both of their bodies. Knowing now that just down the road there was a bed with their name on it stepped up the anticipation another notch, and as Cristina sipped her wine she couldn't take her eyes off him. It was only half past eight which seemed a little early to go to the hotel, and she was still a bit full from dinner, but she had never wanted anything in her life as much as she wanted him to take her to bed right then.

Her small sips turned into a big gulp when he put his hand on her thigh and leaned closer. "Thank you for coming on this date with me," he said solemnly. "It has been absolutely incredible. I know you're not into the outdoors but I hope you've enjoyed yourself as much as I have."

His voice and the way he looked at her were literally melting her from the inside out. She noticed his gaze drop to her shoulder, bare where her sweater slipped down except for the strap of her top and bra, and thought for a moment he was going to kiss her there, but his eyes swept up over her neck and face before he turned back to his scotch with a small grin. More than ever he reminded her of the night they met, of the cocky Army Major with the 'graze' on his thigh, and she longed to feel his stubble and the warmth of his tongue on her skin - on all her skin, all over.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden loud bang which made both her and Owen jump; she looked around and caught the end of a brilliant white firework in the deep purple sky, its sparks falling softly onto the ocean. It was obviously the wedding party, too eager to see the display to wait for complete darkness.

In turning around she had missed the alarm in Owen's eyes when the noise went off, and when she looked at him again he had mostly managed to recover from his moment of panic. He then realized that apart from when he was talking about it, he hadn't thought about the war once all day, something quite astonishing. It also left him with no doubts whatsoever that he was doing the right thing by letting her into his life, and edged him a tiny bit closer to his one hundred percent.

II

Owen paid their bill despite her protests and they went outside to watch the fireworks. The noise didn't bother him as long as he kept his eyes open to tell his brain that he was not in fact witnessing gunfire. It was a good display, fairly short but very entertaining if the whoops of the wedding guests and other restaurant customers nearby were anything to go by.

"Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?" Cristina asked, having noticed a gate in the railing around the veranda which opened onto a path.

"Sure. But you look cold - let me go get your jacket from the truck."

He returned quickly with the garment and held it up for her to slip her arms into. _Such a gentleman_, she mused. They got down onto the soft sand above the tide line and Owen decided to go for it and hold her hand - as soon as he did, it felt so right that he wondered why he had been so anxious about doing it before. They were clearly meant to be more than just lovers and he wanted the world to see that now.

As they strolled along, listening to the crash of the waves and the distant music from the hotel, the beach lit by colored lanterns and the last of the sun's rays, Cristina thought she could happily stay here with him forever - their own slice of paradise. She liked the feel of his strong hand holding hers, and whilst it wasn't normally her thing, she thought it could so easily become _their _thing. Owen's brilliant blue gaze never seemed to leave her for too long and he was always smiling whenever she caught it. There really was no other place she would rather be, not even in an OR, and it was a very sobering thought that he had gotten to her so deeply.

When did that happen? Was it a slow thing, over the past few months; creeping up on her through every stolen glance and their rare but passionate embraces? Or had she literally fallen for him today, with his romantic gestures and sense of humor; the teasing and touching and the sudden feeling that she had known him all her life?

Either way, she had fallen, and she had fallen hard. And surprisingly, the place she had landed wasn't half as terrifying as she had anticipated.

Owen was becoming concerned that everything today had been _too_ romantic - she seemed distant to him, lost in thought, even as she held his hand. He had really wanted to show her this gorgeous place and she had enjoyed herself, he could tell, but now they were spending the night here and it all just suddenly seemed a little... might look from the outside like he was playing a big game of seduction: _I'm going to take you away and now, oops, I've had a drink so we'll just have to stay the night. Oh well..._

And he admitted it, he had been trying to seduce her with the beautiful scenery and by them spending time together, but not in a sleazy way. If he was honest with himself, of course he hoped they might end up in bed together at the end of the night - any man would, given their increasingly hot past encounters - but he didn't want her to feel trapped in the situation now and not be able to back out. He was complicated, which made the concept of _them_ complicated too, and maybe she was still worried about what she was getting herself into.

"Cristina, are you sure you want to stay here?"

She looked up at him, drawn from her reverie by the sound of his voice. "Sorry? Oh. Well, not much choice now is there? We've both had a drink."

Owen stopped walking and turned to her, looking very serious. "Look, I need you to know that I didn't plan this. I didn't bring you here with a secret agenda to get you into bed-"

She put her finger on his lips, realizing he had misread the silence as her having misgivings, and got up on tiptoes so her nose was almost touching his. "Of course you did," she murmured with a little smile, touched by his concern, his exquisite manners which somehow made him even sexier.

"I promise, I didn't-"

"Owen, shut up." He did, and she took a deep breath. "I'm not having second thoughts. I was actually just thinking that I _want_ to go to bed with you and I want there to be touching and I want to be your girlfriend. Okay?"

She couldn't have been much clearer if she'd tattooed the words _'Take me now!'_ on her forehead. A slow smile spread across his face and Cristina's heart skipped a beat. "Okay."

"Good. Now kiss me." She covered the space between them and claimed his mouth, feeling his arms crush her against him as they both released the pent-up desire that had been building inside them today and for the past couple of months. She already knew he was a fucking phenomenal kisser but he was just blowing her mind right now, drawing little moans out of her every other second, his hands seemingly everywhere at once on her sex-starved body.

How long they ravished each other for before he finally pulled away, she had no idea. It felt like an eternity but still the second their lips were apart she just wanted to be kissing him again.

"I need to tell you something," Owen said breathlessly, running his fingers tenderly through her hair. It was very hard to focus on saying words when she looked so heavenly, with her pretty red mouth and her dark eyes struggling to stay open. "I er, don't sleep very well. I sometimes have nightmares, about the war. I don't want to scare you, but I thought I should tell you."

She considered him for a long moment, fighting to catch her breath "Okay. Well, if you can't sleep tonight, wake me up and we'll just have sex again."

He laughed in shock at her unexpected words. He'd never met anyone quite as feisty as Cristina, nor someone who could make him feel so much better about his problems with just a few words or a heartfelt glance. "What makes you think you'll want seconds? I might not be very good. It has been a long time."

For all his words, Cristina knew he was quietly sure of the opposite: it was in the kind of sexy confidence that had been practically radiating from him all day; in the way his lustful gaze wandered unashamedly over her body now and at every available opportunity; in the air around them, which crackled with sexual energy; and in the fact that men who kissed like that could not possibly be anything other than incredible in bed.

Anyway, she was so wound up, so turned on already that he wouldn't even need to try very hard: one touch and he could probably push her over the edge. "I think," she said slowly, holding onto his arms for support, "It's high time we found out one way or the other, don't you?"

II

They crashed over the threshold into their hotel room, dropping what little belongings they had and jumping straight into each other's arms: the time for touching was nigh. Owen pushed her against the back of the door, kissing her fiercely, making her whimper and groan against his lips. He quickly pulled off her sweater and tank top, running his hands up her sides, taking in the sight of her bare skin and lace-covered breasts and feeling himself grow even harder. God, she was just perfect, he thought as he tried to kiss every part of her neck and chest at once, grazing his teeth above her bra cup, on her shoulder, in the sensitive little spot by her ear. He couldn't get enough of the noises she was making and his whole body was throbbing with the need to be inside her and fuck her until she ran out of sounds.

He eventually claimed her mouth again as she tugged his shirt out from his pants, her touch on his abdomen so electrifying that he let out a groan of his own. Cristina undid as many damn buttons as she could but in the end gave up and got him to pull it up over his head instead; the feel of his skin against hers when they came together again was incredible, as was the friction she got rubbing against his erection.

"Cristina you're killing me," he growled after she ground her hips particularly forcefully against him, and he shoved his hands beneath the waistband of her pants and pushed them straight down her legs. She was wearing black panties to match her bra and the contrast between those and her soft, creamy skin was insanely arousing. He kneeled down to help her step out of her jeans and stayed there, taking her hips in his hands and pressing his face between her thighs, kissing her through the lace before tugging that off as well.

The feel of his beard on her delicate skin and then his warm, wet tongue right on her center were almost completely overwhelming and she bucked against him, her hands in his hair and her throaty moans filling up the room. Her body was experiencing so many sensations it didn't quite know what to do with itself: her calves kept twitching her up onto tiptoes; her fingers clenching and releasing every time his tongue hit a particularly sensitive spot; her eyes falling closed and then opening again to take in the unfamiliar but incredible sight of his red hair and strong arms as he went down on her so exquisitely.

When he slid a long finger inside her she felt her internal muscles contract so forcefully that she thought that was her finished, but her body held off as it adjusted to him, sending little shockwaves down her legs as a taster of what lay ahead. Owen loved the way she writhed against the door, alternately swearing and moaning his name. Continuing the movement of his tongue and now two fingers inside her, he reached up his free hand and blindly pulled down one of her bra cups to find a nipple, which was when he learned just how sensitive her breasts were: after mere seconds she suddenly cried out and arched her whole body off of the door, and he didn't need her words to know that she had at last tipped over the edge.

"Fuck, Owen! I'm coming, I'm coming... _Ohh._"

The orgasm ripping through her was without doubt the best, the most intense she had ever had, the ultimate culmination to her day of almost relentless arousal. Her own ability to pleasure herself over the past lonely year just paled into nothingness when compared with his, no matter how intense her fantasies or the skill of the toys she employed, and she found it quite bizarre that he could do better than her on his first shot when she had been practising since her twenties. He was obviously just a natural, and now he was hers, there to give her mind-blowing pleasure whenever she liked.

That thought of more, and the way he smiled up at her from between her legs when she finally opened her eyes, immediately sent her longing for him sky rocketing again. Now she had had a taste of what he was capable of, she wanted to find out what they could do together; wanted to show him what she could do in return.

"You are so beautiful when you come," Owen murmured, beginning a trail of kisses that started on her thigh and ended up on her chin. He looked straight into her dark eyes, noting the haziness he had caused, and then she kissed him with her tongue and teeth and the brief lull in proceedings was over. "God I want you," he growled as her small hands set to work on his jeans and boxers, quickly getting rid of them and then pushing him backwards towards the big bed in the center of the room.

"I can tell," she teased, an echo of her words from earlier in the day, and he would have laughed if the air wasn't suddenly drawn from his lungs when she took him in her palm, squeezing him gently, a devilish smirk on her pretty lips. He was glad of the mattress behind him when his knees gave way and the next thing he knew he was on his back and she was climbing over him, her wonderful hair all over his skin and her delicious mouth around his cock.

Now it was his turn to swear and he did so in earnest, making Cristina smile at how crazy she was driving him and the power she had over him. She wanted to pay him back for what he had instigated and then subsequently halted on the boat; to make him feel as high and as desperate as she had done beneath his mouth... but he wasn't going to make it easy for her. She glanced up at him, trailing her tongue lazily to his tip, to see him looking straight at her, his blue eyes almost unrecognisably dark. Watching her watching him, he reached down a hand and rubbed one of her nipples through her bra, and she had to stop her work for a moment as a great shudder of need ran through her, instantly doubling the heat pulsing between her thighs.

Owen knew the effect he had just had on her; he also knew that, as amazing as her mouth was, he wanted to fuck her right now, to feel her walls clench around him and to fill her up completely. He put his hands under her arms and pulled her off of him and to the side, rolling on top of her and kissing her roughly, his fingers in her hair and his erection pressed into her thigh. He lifted himself up just enough to slip a hand down between them and find her clit, and she was so wet again already that it blew his mind.

Cristina could barely breathe when he touched her, already sensitive from his first efforts, but he seemed to know this instinctively and kept the pressure just light enough to please her without causing too much pain. When he dipped his head and grazed his teeth over her bra cup, catching her aching nipple and then sucking hard, she decided it was high time they consummated this relationship - there would be plenty more opportunities for him to take his time and enjoy her, as he had mentioned earlier.

"Owen," she said breathlessly, her hands running over his broad back, "Get inside me right now."

He thought she would never ask. "How do you want me?"

"Don't care. You pick."

He sat up and looked at her, taking in her beautiful body and feeling almost light-headed with desire. He had known since almost the moment they met that he wanted her and it had taken a while for him to decide that he was ready, but now he wondered how he had ever managed to resist her for so long. If he had known exactly what lay under her scrubs, well... he would have caved a long time ago.

"We definitely don't need a condom?" On their date at Joe's, someone had knocked into her left arm at the bar and she had winced; subsequently she had to explain that she'd just had her contraceptive implant replaced.

"No," she confirmed impatiently now, her fingers teasing his cock with long strokes from base to tip, making it very difficult for him to think straight. "C'mon Owen. Come get your ninety eight percent." She practically purred those last words and something in his brain finally kicked into action.

He pulled her up to sit and unhooked her bra with one hand, glimpsing her bare breasts for the first time and feeling his groin tighten even more at the sight. "Kneel up," he told her as kindly as his rough voice would allow. As she did so he thought she looked both surprised and impressed at his instruction, but that wasn't his intention: he just wanted her in his favorite position, where he could bury himself so deeply in her and touch all of her at once.

Cristina, on all fours, first felt his fingers snake around her hip and land squarely on her clit; as she gasped in pleasure, he entered her from behind and it was such an overwhelming, forgotten sensation that she actually cried out, her moan combining with Owen's and sounding a thousand times louder in the air around them.

"Oh my god," he groaned, slowly thrusting into her wetness, the most incredible sensation he had ever felt in his life. He used his spare hand to pull gently on her shoulder and she took the hint and slowly knelt up until her back was against his chest, her legs folded in between his and his strong arm wrapped around her to hold her upright.

"You feel... so good." Her head fell back onto his shoulder, her fingers in his hair, her back arching as he drove up into her so deeply it was almost painful. She felt his lips on her neck, on the curve of her ear; meanwhile his left hand continued its faultless rhythm on her clit and his right cupped each of her breasts in turn, his thumb flicking her nipples until she was once again writhing in his arms, her body encouraging his to move faster and harder.

The reason Owen loved this position so much, even though he couldn't stay in it too long or he'd lose feeling in his legs (which would not be a problem tonight), was the intimacy of it: the fact he could be inside her at such a fantastic angle, feel her gorgeous ass rubbing against him as they moved together, play with all her main erogenous zones at once and, if they turned their heads far enough around, kiss her quite thoroughly at the same time - which they could, and they did.

Cristina could taste the sweat on his upper lip as they kissed the best they could: the sideways angle of their mouths made it messy and unbelievably hot, and with his arms holding her tightly and him buried inside her she came a second time. He stilled the movement of his hips to feel her contracting around him, feeling her cry vibrate through her body, but continued with his fingers until she pushed his hand away and he was sure she had finished.

"Wow," she breathed, over and over as he began to pick up his pace again, so close already to what he knew was going to be a truly earth shattering climax. When she ran her hands along his forearms and then linked her fingers through his, squeezing tightly and whimpering with pleasure, he thrust up into her one last time and then came so hard he thought the waves upon waves of blissful release were never going to end.

Cristina fell forwards onto her hands, completely and utterly satiated. She felt like she had just run a marathon, but no amount of exercise could ever bring the kind of buzz that sex could - especially sex with Owen Hunt. He lay down and pulled her with him, neither knowing how to even begin to describe what had just happened between them, and neither needing to. When she turned her face towards him and saw his sexy, loving smile, the one he had been sharing with her all day long, she felt her heart beat suddenly harder in her chest and her lips curve into a smile of their own.

If anyone was to ask her, weeks or months down the line, when was the moment she fell in love with him, she would have to say this one, right here. And it wasn't just the incredible lovemaking or the hot foreplay clouding her judgement: it was fitting the last piece into the puzzle; being totally bare before him in more ways that one; feeling like she now knew all of him inside out and back to front, and that she wanted all of him - the complete picture - in her life from now on in.

Most importantly, it was knowing that he had just fallen in love with her too: his eyes said it, his smile, and then he opened his mouth and his words said it as well.

"Cristina Yang, I am falling in love with you." _One hundred percent._

He had been saying it all day long, really: every time he looked at her, every romantic gesture he unveiled; every joke he told and every touch of his skin on hers. And she found that she quite liked hearing those words, the deep timbre of his voice across the space between them etching itself into her memory as she leaned in to seal this moment with a kiss.

"I think..." she said slowly, lacing her fingers with his, "That I am too."

Owen didn't mind that she didn't actually say the words: the fact she said anything at all was more than he could ever have hoped for - that such a wonderfully smart, staggeringly beautiful woman could fall in love with him and his messed up life. Except it didn't feel so messed up now she was in it - in fact, she brought things into perfect clarity. He had more than just a job and a head full of bad dreams now: he had a girlfriend, someone to love and to touch and to take to bed as often as he liked; someone worth confronting his nightmares for; someone worth sharing every plate of food with for the rest of his life.

He had been completely right about her that morning: she had surpassed all his hopes for the day and in quite spectacular fashion too. And he knew, looking at her now with her pretty mouth and trusting eyes, her cheeks still flushed from his touch and the back of her neck just visible beneath her curly hair, that she was going to continue to do so every single day from now on, just by being herself - Cristina Yang, the woman he loved.

She got off to a good start immediately. "I'm afraid I don't have any provocative lingerie," she said quietly, running her finger lazily down his chest, her dark gaze not leaving his. "But I'm pretty sure I promised you a hot shower, and I am _very_ good at soapy shower sex." She raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Wanna play?"

Fin.


End file.
